Heal Me

by Grady, D. R.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs and she looked up to see a slightly wrinkled TJ and Fred clamor down the stairs. TJ’s eyes looked bright and Jenna wondered about that until TJ said, “Someone said pizza, right?” And Jenna realized that was her someone’s-going-to-feed-me look. Not romantic at all.

  “Yes, and we also picked up brownies,” Mark said, smiling at her.

  “Good. I lost seven pounds last week. We can’t have this,” TJ said and sniffed the air happily.

  They settled around the table, and Jenna passed out paper plates and cans of soda. Everyone dug in, hungry after the morning of sleeping apparently.

  “So,” Colleen said after they had their fill of pizza and she began passing the brownies around. “We’ve got party favors to do today. So, I’m writing you all down to help and Emmy and Damon are due to arrive shortly. They couldn’t have lunch with us.”

  “Emmy mentioned some shortbread and chocolate cookies,” Mark said, slanting a look at her and Owen.

  “Excellent,” Owen replied, and darted a disgusted look at his partner. “Since most of us aren’t going to get much of this brownie, it’s just as well.”

  “What’s she bringing me?” TJ asked. She had chocolate on her nose. Fred seemed fascinated by this. To his detriment. His inattention lost him a large section of brownie. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “She said something about chocolate chocolate chip cookies,” Colleen said as she forked up a bite of brownie.

  “Is she using my recipe?” Jenna asked.

  Mark grinned. “That’s what she said.”

  “Good.”

  “They’re not bringing that cat, are they?” Owen asked, eyes narrowed.

  Jenna laughed. “They might. Winston likes it here nearly as much as he likes home, but I doubt they will. He’s a troublemaker,” she answered and darted a look at TJ.

  Who still had chocolate on her nose. TJ grinned at her. “He’s a funny cat. O’Maley’s upset that Winston might get more cookies.”

  “He likes Emmy’s shortbreads. That’s wrong,” he stated firmly and swiped a finger over TJ’s nose, fairly effectively wiping the chocolate off. Fred looked disappointed.

  Someone rapped on the kitchen door before it whooshed open and Damon and Emmy entered. Jenna noticed both Owen and Fred’s hands hovered near their hips and wondered briefly about it. Even TJ, whose hand didn’t hover, looked serious for a moment before all of them relaxed after identifying the new arrivals.

  Emmy handed a bag of chocolate dipped shortbread cookies to Owen. Jenna protested. “You know, I’ve liked those cookies longer than he has, and I’m your best friend, yet you always give them to him,” she said, eyes narrowed and hooked a thumb him.

  He grinned, and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “I’ll share them, for a price.”

  She looked him up and down, as though considering, but couldn’t quite keep her interest to herself. That earned her a kiss.

  Emmy also placed a tin of cookies on the table, close to TJ who, with glee, attacked it. Fred looked amused. Jenna offered coffee, but it was too hot. Everyone opted for iced tea, instead.

  Colleen looked happy, and elbowed Mark, who disappeared downstairs. Jenna cleared up the remains of their lunch but left the pidly remainder of brownie and the cookies, and added a fresh pitcher of iced tea. She made two more pitchers and was in the process of wiping the counter when Mark returned. He carried the box they brought home during the week, and she figured that was the party favor box.

  He dropped it and Colleen began removing items at a rapid rate. She handed each person a package, which she instructed them to open. “Mark wanted to have someone else do these up, but I insisted we do them. This is part of the fun,” Colleen said gleefully and despite her experience to the contrary, even TJ didn’t rain on her parade.

  The couple had decided to give a small basket with a candle, picture frame, and assorted candies to each couple attending their wedding. The assemblers’ job was to place the items into the baskets and tie it off with a ribbon.

  With eight people, they ended up doing an assembly line. Mark pulled out a basket and handed it to Emmy who placed a candle inside. She handed it over to Damon who placed the picture frame inside. He handed the basket to Jenna who dropped in the first type of candy. Jenna passed the basket to Owen who added another type of candy and he handed the basket off to Fred who added another type of candy. TJ placed in the last type of candy and Colleen tied the ribbon. They stacked the finished baskets on the counter behind them and the job was finished fairly soon.

  “See, that didn’t take long, now did it?” Colleen asked cheerfully, and TJ groaned.

  “Okay, that wasn’t nearly as bad as the last one I helped with. It took us all day, because we had to paint these little flower pots multiple times, bag seeds, and add ribbon. It was a nightmare.”

  Colleen looked intrigued. Jenna understood. “They gave little flower pots?”

  “Yes. It took forever. They looked really nice when they were finished, but I swore after that experience that I’m eloping. None of this crazy wedding planning business.”

  “You can’t call in all those debts then,” Mark pointed out reasonably.

  “So, they can throw a really nice reception when we get back from the honeymoon. That’s the most important part of the deal, anyway.” And she smiled a secret, feminine smile.

  Fred looked happy, and uncomfortable.

  “Speaking of the honeymoon, have you gone shopping for that yet?” TJ asked Colleen.

  “Not yet. As my maid-of-honor, you have to go with me,” Colleen said.

  “No problem. I know just the place.” She grinned wickedly at Mark. Who didn’t look uncomfortable at all.

  “I like black,” he said with a matching grin.

  “Not for your wedding night, but I’ll keep that in mind,” TJ offered and Jenna made a mental note that if Owen ever asked her to marry him, she’d force TJ to take her shopping. She liked the way this woman thought.

  She reached out and poured herself more tea and Owen pushed his glass closer to her. She refilled his and her brother’s. And Emmy’s. She couldn’t reach the others, but she passed the pitcher on and snagged the cookie tin. She liked Emmy’s shortbreads, but she also really liked the chocolate chocolate chipped ones. She liked the idea of Owen asking her to marry him even more.

  Chapter 18

  Owen and TJ got a call from the precinct, and left later that evening. Something to do with William Brandan, they muttered, but didn’t offer much information. Jenna trailed back into the family room and picked up her discarded paperwork. She hadn’t planned on spending Saturday evening doing paperwork, but without Owen around, she had few options.

  When she went to bed later that evening, he hadn’t returned home yet, and when she awoke the next morning, his pillow was dented, but he was gone. The bed on his side felt slightly warm, but he’d been gone long enough it had already started to cool. She leaned over and sniffed his pillow. His scent lingered, and only made her miss him more.

  She vaguely remembered a hug and kiss, but couldn’t be certain whether she had dreamed the experience or not. She climbed out of bed and saw he left her a note. It was propped on the nightstand.

  Dear Jenna,

  Sorry to sleep and run. I tried to wake you, but you seemed pretty tired. McCully and I are basically running on caffeine, but we’ve got a break on this case and didn’t want the trail to grow cold by Monday morning. Fred’s program did help so we’re pursuing some leads. I have no idea when we’ll be home tonight, if we are at all.

  I miss you!

  Love,

  Owen

  She teared up that he thought to write her a note. She missed him, too, and was grateful he shared that he missed her. This man scared her, because she was coming to realize she didn’t want to live without him.

  When they arrived home late that evening, Jenna and Fred were still up. Fred worked on a laptop and Jenna looked to be nearly finished with the p
aperwork they had started yesterday morning. Owen wished he’d gotten the chance to finish up his own. They’d seen Brandan, but hadn’t been able to snag the little pervert. This infuriated him. He wanted this case closed and a done deal on their part.

  Enough women had suffered. He hoped that now Brandan knew they were on his tail, he’d give up raping any more women. Owen hoped the little creep would be too busy eluding them to find another victim. He didn’t count on that reasoning, but a cop could hope. They currently had every police officer on the alert for the man, and Harrisburg, Lancaster, York and all the suburb police were cooperating on searching for him. He might be able to run now, but he wouldn’t remain hidden for long. They were going to get him. And once they did...

  He sank onto the couch beside Jenna and took her into his arms. Right now he needed to hold her. She seemed to feel the same way, because she dropped the papers in her hand and wiggled until she was practically in his lap. Her arms entwined his neck. A quick shift settled her comfortably in his lap and he felt her sigh. He wanted to echo the sentiment. Instead he tightened his arms around her.

  He refused to contemplate what he’d do if the creep or any other man decided to hurt this woman. Owen feared his reaction. He was pretty certain he’d lose control. And once that happened, it would all be over.

  Monday morning, they separated for work again. Fred took her into work as usual, and when she entered the clinic, she waved absently to their receptionist. “Good Morning, Vivian.” She pushed through the door to her office, and stopped by her desk.

  Her door snapped shut. William Brandan stood between her and freedom.

  He bowed. She saw something crumpled on the floor in the corner and her heart pounded while her palms dampened. Because whatever lay there was human. Or had been. The figure lay too still, and her doctor’s instincts kicked in.

  “What have you done?” she demanded.

  “Oh, she’s nothing to worry about. Just one small part of the larger picture. But you see, I have discovered I’d rather you not heal them. I like my women to remain victims, so you’ll forgive me, my dear, but it is the way of life, is it not?” He smiled at her before extracting a syringe from his pocket.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. Not certain she wanted an answer. This man looked perfectly normal. He appeared as coherent and normal as she herself; except for that weird light in his eyes. She didn’t like that look at all. Nor did she care for the polite, mannerly way he spoke. Her stomach roiled as he removed the plastic cap that protected the needle.

  “One last experiment and then I’m finished,” he said cheerfully as though they discussed the fine weather they were having. He expertly pushed air from the syringe and stepped toward her.

  Owen flashed before her eyes. As did her family, and Jenna’s eyes narrowed. This pervert wasn’t raping her. He had removed his own advantage by not grabbing her the moment she came through the office door. Now she had opportunity to defend herself. Jenna planned to fight to the very end if she had to, but she wasn’t going to endure what the other victims had.

  She tugged the stethoscope from her desk and swung just as he approached her.

  “Oh, yes, you’re finished, all right,” she said as the heavy piece at the bottom cracked him in the head. Her surprise attack stunned him enough that she could throw the kick she had learned from those in Sandovia. As a doctor, the sound of crunching bones bothered her. But as a woman desperate to defend herself, the sound satisfied her.

  Brandan threw out a punch, which caught her in the cheek and she felt her cheekbone crumple. Gasping, she spun, but felt the needle plunge into her forearm. She yanked her arm away, and punched out, hoping to connect with flesh. She didn’t, but the next kick she sent out, fueled by the adrenaline hurtling through her veins, slammed him into the wall. He slumped to the floor and Jenna watched in terror as her vision became spotted and blurry. The small black dots began to align before her in a pattern that blacked out the world.

  Jenna screamed.

  Chapter 19

  When his phone rang, Owen felt ready to pitch the thing into the field whizzing by. They had come up empty-handed again, and his frustration levels had hit all time highs. It was only eight-thirty in the morning.

  “Hello?” he barked so nastily into the phone McCully darted an inquisitive look at him before watching the road again. Her eyes rarely left the road when she drove. She was big on adhering to safety.

  “O’Maley, Brandan nailed two more women,” the voice said.

  “What? Where?” he demanded. At least Jenna and McCully were safe.

  “He broke into the clinic where Dr. Jenna Fields works. He got a nurse, first, and so far they haven’t seen a response from her, but Dr. Fields is experiencing the drug. He tried for her, but she fought him off.”

  “Is she okay?” Owen whispered. Fear rose in his gut like a striking viper and a cold sweat broke out along his spine.

  McCully, who must have picked up on at least part of the conversation jerked the car to the side of the road and stared at him with fear widened eyes.

  “I don’t know her condition.”

  “We’re going to her clinic,” Owen said hoarsely, his heart beating too quickly as he waved at the road.

  McCully checked traffic before spinning out onto the road. She took a few corners so tightly he had to hang on.

  He thanked the officer who called before ending the call.

  “Brandan got Jenna?” McCully asked in a low, furious, painful voice. She took the next turn with the skill of an Indy driver.

  “Yes,” he said, and his throat hurt.

  McCully nodded her lips tight, hands white-knuckled on the wheel. “What about Fred?”

  “He’s just been dropping her off. We never thought Brandan would confront her in the clinic.” Owen blew out a breath. It hurt to breathe, but it hurt more to think of what Jenna might have endured.

  An echo of his sigh emitted from McCully’s side of the car so he glanced at her. She looked pale, and worried. He was grateful to not have to go through this alone.

  As soon as they reached the clinic, he shoved the passenger door open and skidded out of the car before McCully brought it to a complete stop. She tumbled out right after him and the car continued to rock as they sprinted for the front door of the clinic. The receptionist, as soon as she saw them, crumpled into tears. She waved a hand to indicate they go through the door as a nurse rocked her.

  Owen didn’t stop to ask questions. He’d been here before and knew where Jenna’s office was. Not stopping to speak to anyone, he reached her office door and barely made the turn. He grabbed the jamb for support and stared inside the room.

  A woman lay in a crumpled heap to one side, and two grim faced doctors worked over her, but Jenna was nowhere to be seen.

  “Jenna Fields is in the next room,” the lady doctor said as she looked up briefly from the woman on the floor. The male doctor resolutely kept at his task, which appeared to be an attempt to locate vital signs. Owen indicated for McCully to proceed with this victim as he ran for the next room.

  Jenna lay on an examination table, pale as the sheet she lay on. Her head listed to the side, her eyes closed. He saw a huge bruise on her cheek and noticed immediately that that cheek didn’t quite match the other. He’d been a cop long enough to recognize a broken cheekbone and his stomach heaved.

  “Detective O’Maley?” A woman stepped forward.

  “Yes, how is she?” he asked, hearing the anguish in his voice.

  “She’s out from whatever he gave her, but she seems to be holding steady.”

  “Is she coherent at all?”

  “We believe she’s semi-aware of what’s going on around her, but things will most likely be hazy when she awakens,” another feminine voice added and Owen looked up to see the sister of the victim who’d died.

  “Will she be okay?”

  “Yes, and several of us who work with her are observing what she’s experiencing, so we can ho
pefully identify this in future patients.”

  “No allergic reaction or anything?”

  “No. She screamed and alerted us to a problem, as well as the thump the man made when he hit the wall. Right before she went under Jenna told us he said she was his final experiment.”

  “What did he mean by that?” Owen demanded and had enough sense to start taking notes. Fear continued to ice his insides. He fought to quell his raging emotions because he had a job to do.

  “We believe he intended to test the final version of his newest date rape drug on Jenna. We did get a sample from the syringe. She didn’t receive a full dosage, thank goodness. So we can use some of it for testing.”

  He stared at Jenna. “And she’s this out of it?”

  “She’s out of it, yes, and we believe her vision is hazy, but that her mind probably isn’t so much. We imagine she’ll be able to remember what we’ve said and what we’ve done, if not be able to see who has performed the procedures,” the woman answered calmly. He thought she was trying very hard to remain in professional mode and not think of what her sister had experienced before she died.

  “So she should remember that I’m here?”

  “Yes. And that I’m here, as well as several of the other doctors and nurses who’ve come by to check on her. We’ve canceled some of our appointments today so we can remain with Jenna.”

  “Is there something that can be given to her to bring her around?”

  She shook her head. “No. Because we still don’t know the exact formula for what he gave her. Until we know that, we can’t risk giving her something. It’s too dangerous.”

  Owen breathed again, struggling to keep air in his lungs. He had never worried about them seizing up before, but from the moment of the call that the creep had attacked Jenna, he battled with this normally simple function.

  The woman placed a hand on his arm. “Perhaps you’d like to speak to her? Alone?”

  He opened his mouth to say yes, but McCully barreled through the door and nearly into him. “They’ve got Brandan in another room, with an armed security guard holding him, but I’d feel better if we read him his rights and got him out of here,” she said this quietly and he watched her pace to where Jenna lay and stroke her arm.